


Natural Look

by VerbenaHA



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Face Paint, Fourth of July, M/M, Makeup, Sleepovers, maekovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:57:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4267629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerbenaHA/pseuds/VerbenaHA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's four am on the fourth of July, let's paint our nails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natural Look

Eren usually got to Armin's house late, after the restaurant closed. After several months expiramenting with nail colors and eye liner picked up at the dollar store, it became a routine they never questioned. The makeup went on and then it came off.

It was all off brand and not very good, since Armin was not _technically_ allowed to bring the good stuff home from class.The way he stared at the shelf of makeup kits at the end of the day made Eren think he wanted to steal every one of them for their own good.

“This blue is too dark,” he griped, handing the eye shadow back. Eren glanced over Armin’s eyes and shook his head before his concentration went back down to his toenails.

“No, it’s not. I swear it looks good.”

Armin waved a hand in front of his face. “You know me. I prefer… a natural look.”

“Here, look, smudge your eyeliner,” said Eren. “Hand me the clear polish.”

“Here. You still want me to put on the stars?”

“Yes.”

Armin dug around in the makeup bag, a far cry from the padlocked cases at school.

“Did you say you wanted the orange or the yellow?”

“Neither, I want that in-between color.”

“Oh, yeah… I’ve got three packets of these." Armin yawned. "I found them on sale.”

“I remember, I was there.”

“Were you? I forgot.” Armin pulled out the stick-on stars and mulled over the array of colors. “What even is it? Mango?”

“I think it’s a pineapple color,” said Eren.

The taint of nail polish in the air was typically consumed by the acrid smell of remover two or three hours later. Whether they liked it or not- and they did not like it at all- nail polish was odd.

“Where I come from, this isn’t weird, you know,” Eren griped suddenly. Armin paused and looked at him, a tube of lipstick held an inch from his face.

“Yeah, I know. What’s wrong?”

“You get all this cool makeup to wear on a stage but it’s weird to wear it in, like, _public_.” In the silence, there was a weight that sat on them like a cloak.

This was such a compact city with one church or more around every corner. The population felt smaller than it really was, the majority of it trying to keep the status quo while the rest of world slowly moved forward. And there they were, eyes fringed like a peacock’s and mango-colored stars on their nails.

It did not matter that the country had passed marriage equality or that it was Independence Day and most grown men in the streets would have red and white and blue streaked on their cheeks before evening.

Armin went back to his lipstick. He rubbed his lips together and stared at his reflection in the hand mirror. He moved it back and forth like a photographer looking for the best angle in his camera. Occasionally he mouthed some private word just to see how it looked framed by his painted lips. He loved this feeling: the smell of makeup and the way the stringed lights over his bed could make it glow like fire.

Eren knew it made him feel good. He set his hands in his lap and watched Armin preen. He was not a vain kid: Armin wore concealer in public all the time to hide his acne scars. He was so handsome but if he was insecure about it, the acne was to blame.

After a solid twenty minutes, Armin put the mirror down and reached into the red bag again to pull out the wipes. He dragged out the soft, white fabric quick between two fingers and offered it to Eren first.

“No, not yet.”

“You sure?” Armin asked.

“Yeah. Let’s do something else first.”

“Like what? It’s four in the morning, and you have work.”

Eren shook his head. “Can’t believe I have work tonight.”

“I know, but we can see other fireworks…” said Armin, the words heavy with the whispers of previous apologies. Eren was not listening. He reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed his back pack.

“I bought this, like, two weeks ago. I thought we’d use it tonight, but whatever, let’s use it now.” Eren reached in and pulled out a fresh, unopened set of Ben Nye. Armin was thrilled.

“Are you serious?” he asked, elated.

“Don’t worry about cleaning your face,” said Eren. “That stuff is going to be stuck there for hours. Let me paint your back.”

They had done this before with cheap face-paint sets which, truth be told, were not half bad. But this was the _good_ stuff. There were kits and kits and kits of it in the theater that Armin organized and kept clean as if his life depended on it. They way kids would leave them open, sitting out made his blood boil.

He lay on his stomach, topless. Eren didn’t bother with an applicator brush and used his thumb. “Am I taking too long?” Eren asked.

“No, your fine,” Armin purred quietly.

It was almost four in the morning before Eren was finished. They spoke a couple times but hushed when Eren lost focus. When he moved away, Armin sat up on his knees. “How’s it look?” he asked with a slight yawn.

Eren considered his handiwork with a hand on his chin. “Not bad, not bad."

Armin went to the mirror on the back of his door and craned his neck to see his reflection behind him. “That’s funny…”

“Yeah, I thought the, uh…” Eren yawned, getting tired. “The only way an elephant could launch a bottle rocket was if he stuck it in his trunk.”

“So how did the donkey light the firework with a lighter? Wouldn’t matches be easier? And also, how did they open those coke bottles? Shouldn't the elephant stick the bottle rocket in the bottle?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Eren snickered, drowsy. He lay down flat on the empty bed.

“Take your shirt off, it’s your turn,” Armin said.

“What? No, I’m tired.”

“Do it.”

“Ugh. Make something that will cover up the _boulders_.”

“Your moles are very nice,” Armin argued. “They make your back look like a chocolate chip cookie.”

“Ha, just… shut up,” said Eren, hiding his face in the pillow.

Armin’s touches could not keep Eren awake. Half way through Armin’s design, Eren was sleeping soundly.

“Eren, wake up, I’m finished.”

“Mm, what?”

“I said I’m done, go look.” Eren stretched, exhausted. Eventually he got up to his feet and trudged to the mirror.

“Oh god, you wrote words…” Eren griped, shutting his eyes tight after glancing at the paint on his back.

“Read it,” Armin said, feeling a tremble in his shoulders.

“Okay. Happy Fourth of July, I—” Eren stopped. He blinked and stared at his reflection, turning his head to one side and then the other to be sure he was seeing it right. “Happy Fourth of July, I love you.”

Eren stared at Armin for a minute. Despite the wide-eyed stare, he yawned once then twice.

“That eye shadow is a little dark,” he mumbled.

“It is?”

“Yeah. But I don’t care, I’m a’ kiss you anyway.” He tried to get back onto the bed and banged his knee in the process. “Geez…”

“You said kiss?” Armin said, holding his chin up with a smile. Eren grinned at his precious eager expression.

“Yes, I did,” said Eren before he fell face first onto his pillow. “Later tonight. I’m going back to sleep now. Happy Fourth.”

Armin chuckled and ran his hand through Eren’s hair until he fell asleep. "Happy Fourth."


End file.
